Chapter Text
August 1, six years earlier.
The rooftop smelled faintly of wet concrete and cigarette smoke. Cold wind brushed against the sleeves of her hoodie, carrying distant sounds of Seoul’s busy life.
Seulgi grabbed the cold railing behind her with both hands, and leaned forward just enough to take a good look below.
Strangely, she could still make things out clearly from ten floors up. Headlights moved through the streets like thin streaks of light. A student stood near the apartment’s entrance, phone in hand, waiting for a friend like she always did every Saturday night. Store signs glowed in different colors, just bright enough to stand out even from up there.
If I disappeared right now, the city would still look exactly like this.
Her grip tightened around the railing, like she was clinging to life. Strange how the body instinctively tried to protect itself, even when the mind kept wondering how it would be like to let go.
“Hey, you.”
Seulgi stilled before turning toward the sudden voice. A woman stood just outside the rooftop doorway, one hand still near the handle as if she hadn’t fully decided to come in.
“Are you trying to jump?” she asked.
Seulgi didn’t answer. Her eyes lingered on the girl instead, adjusting to the darkness. Clear skin, long black hair, and a face that didn’t seem alarmed enough for the question she had just asked.
“I’m not exactly trying to stop you,” she continued, not moving from her spot, “but I suggest you do it somewhere else.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, her gaze drifting briefly past the railing.
“You know people don’t always die from heights like this,” she added.
Seulgi’s eyes followed the direction of her gaze, dropping back to the streets below. Her heel shifted slightly against the concrete, pressing more firmly, steadying her balance.
“Either way, you would just end up dragging everyone in this building with you.”
Seulgi’s fingers tightened around the railing. “You’re crazy,” she said flatly.
The woman let out a quiet scoff, shifting her weight. “You should be saying that to yourself.”
Seulgi turned slowly to face her. “And you shouldn’t talk like that to someone standing out here.”
“Then don’t stand out there,” she replied, almost immediately. “People are gonna be losing sleep because of you.”
A small smile tugged on Seulgi’s lips. “You sure talk a lot.”
The other woman clicked her tongue, looking half-amused. “Well, someone had to if their neighbor keeps sneaking out here every night. You know we’re not supposed to be here, right?”
Neighbor—it took Seulgi a moment to realize what she meant.
She had seen the woman a few times before—probably. Her face seemed familiar, though it might have just been Seulgi’s imagination.
Bae Joohyun, that was her name.
Seulgi had only learned of it just before they left the rooftop that night, after the woman basically nagged her to. Apparently she had been seeing Seulgi sneak out there a lot of times in the past few weeks.
“You’re not going to create any problems for me, not while I’m trying to finish my project, you hear that?” was what she said.
“Sorry,” was all Seulgi could manage.
Seulgi had never bothered to speak to any of her neighbors for all the five months she had been living there. She thought she didn’t need to. Not like she had the courage to, anyway. Nor the communication skills.
But they didn’t matter to her.
What mattered was that the same woman came to nag at her again the next evening, only this time for a different reason.
“You know those will kill you too,” she said, standing near the doorway.
Sitting near the railing, Seulgi turned her head—the flame on her lighter hadn’t even touched the cigarette yet.
“You’re nosy, aren’t you.” Grumbling under her breath, Seulgi turned off the lighter.
“And you’re stupid.” Joohyun rested a hand on her waist. “It’s forbidden to smoke in this apartment.”
“That’s why I’m outside, Miss Smarty-Pants,” Seulgi shot back. “I don’t see your point.”
Joohyun folded her arms.
“Lung cancer. Heart disease. COPD.”
She started listing off diseases like she was reading a textbook, complete with statistics that Seulgi stopped listening to after the first few seconds.
“You’re killing yourself,” she concluded.
Seulgi let out a breath through her nose, more amused than anything. “I see you have good eyes.”
“And you’re killing others from secondhand smoke.”
Seulgi glanced around the entire rooftop. “There’s nobody here, lady.”
“I’m here.”
“Then you can just go in and act like this never happened.”
Joohyun pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t understand smokers. Why do you all throw your lives away so easily?”
Seulgi stared at Joohyun for a while, her fingers fiddling with her cigarette.
“I don’t know about the others, but,” she stopped for a second, her gaze returning to the city. “I don’t really care if I die.”
The words came out as casually as if she was just commenting on the weather.
They weren’t meant to shock anyone—they were simply true.
“Well, you—do you want to die a painful death?” was the best argument Joohyun could come up with.
Apparently, that still wasn’t enough to convince Seulgi.
“It’s not like living is less painful,” she answered. “At least the cig helps with that.”
For the first time since they met, Joohyun couldn’t bring out an answer. The rooftop fell quiet, only the wind moved between them, carrying the distant hum of traffic from the streets below.
Medical textbooks had taught her how cigarettes destroyed lungs, hearts, and blood vessels. They had never taught her what to do when someone simply doesn’t care.
And so, that night, Joohyun retreated from the rooftop—but not for long.
The next evening, she climbed to the rooftop earlier than usual, hoping to prevent Seulgi from standing at the edge or smoking or whatever new nonsense she could think of. Luckily, she arrived when nobody was there, so she leaned beside the doorway, waiting for neighbor girl to show up.
She never did.
Not after ten minutes. Not after half an hour.
Joohyun was supposed to be relieved that Seulgi didn’t come to the rooftop that evening.
She didn’t.
She was irritated. She was pissed off.
Those thirty minutes could have been spent on her thesis.
So she walked down the stairs looking like someone had ruined her night, and stopped in front of door 528.
“Hey!” Joohyun called out, rapping on the door three times. “Are you in there?”
But there was no answer.
“Are you just gonna ignore me?” She hit the door three more times. Yet, there was still no sound heard from the other side.
Joohyun clicked her tongue.
Absent-mindedly, her hand reached for the handle—which turned out to be unlocked.
“Seriously?”
She stepped inside.
The apartment was quiet. Dark, too. Only the faint orange glow from the hallway slipped through the open doorway, barely reaching the living room.
“Hello?”
No answer. Joohyun sighed and reached for the switch by the entrance, letting a narrow strip of warm light stretch across the hallway, but the rest of the apartment remained completely dark.
“...Seriously.”
She walked over to the living room and switched on its light. Only after the apartment was fully lit that she saw how surprisingly tidy it was. Shoes were lined up by the entrance. The dining table had been wiped clean. A stack of textbooks sat neatly on one end, and the kitchen looked almost untouched, as though whoever normally lived there wasn’t home.
“...Are you there?”
Her voice echoed through the apartment—then she noticed one of the bedroom doors standing half-open.
The room was dark, but when she fully opened the door, the glow from the living room was enough for her to see the awful state the room was in.
Empty instant noodle cups sat forgotten on the floor. The small trash bin had long since overflown, forcing plastic bags full of rubbish into one corner. Dirty clothes scattered wherever there had once been empty space. Sketchbooks, pencils, and loose sheets of paper disappeared beneath the clutter.
It was nothing short of a wreckage. It felt less like a bedroom and more like someone had slowly stopped living in it.
And in the eye of the storm, Seulgi lay curled up on a futon.
“Hey,” Joohyun called out, carefully picking her way through the clutter before finally reaching the light switch. Seulgi just hummed wearily, turning her head ever so slowly to the voice.
She was alive, at least.
“...When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday…”
That wasn’t so bad, Joohyun thought. It wasn’t ideal to have not eaten for 24 hours, of course, but it wasn't unheard of. University students skipped meals more often than they should.
“...morning.”
…
Joohyun frowned.
“Nothing since then?”
Seulgi gave a weak shake of her head.
“Water?”
“A little.”
Joohyun stepped back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, only to see that it was practically empty. A bottle of ketchup, a carton of milk that had just gone past its expiry date, and some water bottles.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Joohyun let out a long sigh.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so…” said Seulgi, though her weak voice and sluggish movement suggested otherwise.
“I’m ordering some takeout,” Joohyun said, tapping rapidly on her phone. “For crying out loud, how can someone even come to this state?”
Seulgi didn’t answer. She didn’t have the energy to argue back, but that only seemed to piss Joohyun off even more.
While waiting for the food, Joohyun grabbed a broom and swept aside enough of the clutter to clear a small space on the floor. Not long after, the bell rang. Joohyun took the bag from the delivery rider, thanked him, and returned to the room with a bowl of hot porridge, placing it on the floor near Seulgi.
“Eat,” she said.
Seulgi managed enough energy to sit down, and Joohyun handed her a spoon she grabbed from the kitchen.
“Slowly,” said Joohyun as Seulgi took the first bite. “You don’t have to finish it now.”
Seulgi took another bite.
“Slowly.”
Another bite.
“You’re eating too fast.”
Seulgi put down the spoon.
“You really like giving orders.”
Joohyun groaned. “Apparently I have to.”
By the time Seulgi had finished about half of the porridge, Joohyun was already on her feet.
“Don’t force yourself to finish it all at once,” she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “The rest can wait until later.”
Seulgi only gave a faint hum in response.
Joohyun walked to the entrance, but then looked over her shoulder.
“And eat dinner tomorrow.”
“...I'll try.”
“Don't try. Just eat.”
The words came as naturally as another lecture.
“And don’t forget to clean up this shipwreck.”
With that, she disappeared into the hallway.
The following evening, Joohyun returned carrying a plastic bag from a nearby restaurant.
She knocked three times.
When Seulgi answered, Joohyun held the bag out with an exasperated sigh.
“I figured you’d forget.”
The evening after that, it was kimbap.
The one after, noodles.
She never asked whether Seulgi wanted company. She simply sat down on the floor, handed over a pair of chopsticks, and complained about whatever ridiculous thing Seulgi had done that day.
It wasn’t because Joohyun liked to help—she just refused to let Seulgi become a problem sooner or later.
Whenever Seulgi wasn’t home, Joohyun knew where to look.
The rooftop. Without fail.
She would climb the stairs, push open the heavy metal door, and find Seulgi standing by the railing as though she had never left.
Then dinner would move upstairs instead.
Some nights they argued over cigarettes. Other nights they argued over instant noodles, sleeping habits, or anything else Joohyun happened to notice.
It continued for days, weeks, and then months.
Neither of them ever suggested stopping.
Looking back, Seulgi couldn’t remember when dinner had stopped feeling like charity and started feeling... normal.
No, it wasn’t normal. It just became increasingly difficult to skip meals when someone kept showing up with them.
Joohyun remained just as nosy as the day they met.
She still complained too much. Still lectured her like every conversation was another chapter from a medical textbook. Still found something new to criticize almost every evening.
Seulgi, too, remained the gloomy girl she was before they met.
She still stood outside the railing. Still smoked like it was the only thing keeping her alive. Still found every lecture from Joohyun frustrating.
Seulgi found her annoying. She truly did.
And life was still just as meaningless as it had before.
Just… a little less between six and eight in the evening.